


Darkness

by ko_writes



Series: Fandot Creativity Night - 06/06/15 [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Airplane Crashes, Car Accidents, Death, Fandot Creativity, Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Terminal Illnesses, What have I done?!?!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 05:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4088050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ko_writes/pseuds/ko_writes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Not today.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness

   Arthur, in later life, is not quite as exuberant as he once was. A light seems to dim as time goes on, apparently, and Arthur Shappey barely shines anymore.

* * *

 

   It started at the age of thirty.

   The Poinsettia outside his mother's bedroom window had wilted and died, smothered by frost in the night. He went to throw them away and smiled sadly at the thin, pale woman his mother had become.

   His smile dropped when he realised her chest no longer rose and fell.

   He rushed to her bedside and clasped her hand... cold as ice.

   His voice cracked as he gazed at the small Christmas tree in the corner and whispered, "Not today..."

   His light didn't shine so bright after that.

* * *

 

   It continued at thirty two.

   Douglas lay in a hospital bed, skin tinged yellow and cables and tubes kept him alive. The doctors said his downfall was his past drinking problem, his liver diseased and dying.

   He didn't qualify for a transplant.

   Arthur surveyed the scene with teary eyes as the decision was made; Douglas wasn't coming back. The plug was pulled.

   The pilot's chest stopped it's artificial rise and fall; Herc and Martin, connection grown strong since Carolyn's death, then Douglas' diagnosis, tell each other, "It had to be today," because "not today" was said all too often.

   The light disappears a little more.

* * *

 

   Thirty five, and his light dims even more.

   Herc flew as well as he could, but the storm was too strong. The plane was lost at sea, and so Arthur lost a father, and more light.

   Martin cries into his shoulder, and he Martin's, for the loss of their shared father figure; Herc all but adopting Martin after Douglas' death.

   "Not today," Martin cries and Arthur steels himself enough to remove the badge, 'forty today', from his friend's lapel.

* * *

 

   The light disappeared at forty.

   Martin had been involved in an accident with his van, with a lorry.

   He'd died about a minute before the ambulance got there.

   "Not today," He sobs to no one.

   He is... alone.

* * *

 

   Now, he sits. He stares out of the window. And softly wishes, "Please, today..."


End file.
